


Shiny

by Sproutling



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Absent John, Baby Sam Winchester, Curiosity, Cute, Discovery, Exploration, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Sam Winchester, Maybe - Freeform, Not literally, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam has sticky fingers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 06:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4210929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sproutling/pseuds/Sproutling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little something from Sammy’s point of view; a toddler among hunters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shiny

Glittery and shiny and rolling along the floor.  The little things just appeared every once in awhile; usually when Dad was around, cleaning things at the table with a beer in hand, not seeming to mind pudgy arms wrapping around his ankles or a small teetering body leaning against his knee.  But Dad wasn't around, it was just him and Dean and the mouse in the corner of this room that would be their house for tonight.  He would usually be chasing the mouse but _glittery and shiny and rolling along the floor._

Chasing it down was hard with uncooperative legs that kept kicking it away when he got too close, scooting on his padded bum across the carpet.  It took _lifetimes_ but eventually he came close enough to slap a hand down on it, trapping it against the ground and closing his fist on the cool, smooth surface.  He brought it up to his face and felt his eyes cross dizzily, examining the thing the size of his finger.  Round at one end like a ball but flat at the other, he stroked it, _silver-shiny-smooth._

So entranced he didn't hear Dean becoming bored of the black and white TV and flopping noisily on the bed behind where he sat, he rubbed the thing in his hand against his cheek.  What was it?  Where did it go?  Maybe it fit in-

“What’cha got Sam- Sammy, no!”

And suddenly it wasn't in his hand anymore and he whined because it was his and it was _bad_ to snatch.  But Dean was catching him up off the floor, hugging him now and that was alright.  He looked out the window, distracted by the light, and felt the air build up and up and up in Dean before ruffling his hair on the way out.

“Damn Sammy,” Dean said, and Sam sighed and snuggled and caught fistfuls of Dean’s T-shirt and refused to let go.  “Bullets do _not_ go up your nose.”

**Author's Note:**

> Short and sweet and had to be written because I can't imagine a toddler being raised around weapons 24/7 without some (adorable/dangerous) mishaps. And my muse apparently wanted bby!Sammy with a bullet up his nose, so there you go.


End file.
